APHRODITE: Child, you must think before you act. It’s bad enough the way you toy with mortals down there—always inciting them to some mischief or another, and always in the name of love—but to play such games with the immortal Gods … that’s a much more dangerous proposal. You morph Zeus into whatever shape you like, as if he were some changeling made for your amusement; you lure Selene down from the sky where she belongs; you force Helios to linger with Clymene until it is almost too late for him to drive out at all! And I won’t even mention the naughty tricks you play on your own mother! Of course, you know you’re safe there—I could never harm my darling little Eros—but Rhea?! How could you even think of sending her after that Phrygian fellow?! A woman of her age! And mother of so many Gods! She’s completely lost her senses—she harnesses those lions of hers and dashes all over Ida in some sort of Bacchic frenzy with the Corybantes, shrieking for Attis here and there, slashing her arms and rushing over the hills like a wild thing with disheveled hair! It isn’t proper! Listen to me, one of these days when she is in a mad fit—or perhaps when she finally comes to her senses—she will send the Corybantes after you, my child, with orders to tear you apart and throw you to the lions! Oh, my beautiful boy ... someday you will remember what I’ve said, and you will understand that mother was right.